


A (Less) Bitter Pill

by Kabiki_Kat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: DA Alt Pair Week, Day One, F/M, First Meeting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7053514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabiki_Kat/pseuds/Kabiki_Kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My submission for the 'Dragon Age Alternate Pair Week: Day One' or<br/>A different perspective on Fenris and Orana's first meeting, I mean, how else would she have known how to get back to Kirkwall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A (Less) Bitter Pill

Fenris felt what little control he had maintained throughout the slaver’s den so far shatter. 

Six humans dressed in cheap Tevinter armor surrounded a single elven woman as Fenris charged into the room, an enraged roar tearing itself from his throat. He could hear Hawke and Varric’s shouts of surprise and concern as they followed him into the fray.

The first slaver that Fenris crossed fell quickly as he brought down his blade on the human’s shoulder. As the slaver cried out the elven woman was pushed back while the remaining slavers surrounded Fenris. Now that he had lost the surprise advantage, Fenris allowed himself to be pushed back towards his companions.

The heat of Hawke’s fireball and the crack of Varric’s crossbow wrapped around Fenris’ senses as he caught a glimpse of Isabela appearing behind the most lightly armored of the lot and sinking her daggers into the scumbag. With the odds now leaning in their favor Fenris allowed himself to lose himself in the familiar rhythm of battle.

In his focus he barely noticed one of the slavers slipping through his guard and slicing into his thigh before a wave of healing magic from Hawke fell over him. The touch of magic on hid brands unnerved Fenris though he was grateful for it and pushed though the feeling. If Hadrianna was truly here he would need to be in top shape to rip that bitch’s heart out. The mere thought of it filled him with a burst of energy that he manifested through his brands.

The two slavers closest to him were knocked back by the blast and Fenris was quick to bring his blade down on the nearest slaver’s head. Panting while he righted himself, Fenris saw Hawke finish the remaining slaver with a stone fist and rushed forward to check on the elf the slavers had pushed aside.

Her clothes were typical of an elven slave. She was pale, a testament to the long hours she must have spent indoors, away from the near constant light of the Tevinter sun with hair the color of flax. Approaching the elf, Fenris felt his stomach roil in anger as he noticed how painfully thin the girl was, she stared at him with vivid green eyes full of fear and uncertainty while she rose to her feet.

“Are you hurt?” Fenris asked softly, casting a glance around the room for more slavers “Did they touch you?”

“They’ve been killing everyone!” The young woman cried “They cut Poppa, bled him!” Her eyes settled on Fenris for one panicked moment before darting to Hawke at his side.

“Why? Why would they do this?” Fenris asked gravely, his head bowing in anger and pain. The elven woman was still darting her eyes around in panic, unable to stand still.

“The magister, she said she needed power, that someone was coming to kill her.” Her eyes settled on Fenris and he held her glance for a moment before looking away again, it seemed Hadrianna had foreseen his coming and her slaves had paid the price. Blood was roaring in his ears as he looked the other elf in the eye with a pained expression.

“We tried to be good,” She said turning to pace the floor around her “we did everything we were told, she loved Poppa’s soup! I don’t understand.” Her voice sounded on the edge of tears as she mentioned her father and Fenris found himself unable to speak through the rage that mounted inside of him.

“Is the magister still here?” Hawke’s gentle alto broke through his stewing as he focused his attention back on the elf in front of him.

“I think so, the magister said that they were to prepare for battle, I think she’s very frightened.” She added timidly.

“She has every reason to be.” Fenris growled, a scowl twisting his face, sending the young elven woman in to a small panic.

“Please don’t hurt her,” she begged “she’ll be so angry if you hurt her.” Fenris could hear Isabela’s choked off snarl coming from behind him, it was oddly validating not to be the only one so enraged by what was currently happening. He knew Hadrianna beat her slaves but for the slaves themselves to defend her spoke to the degree in which she ‘punished’ them for her moods.

“This has been terrible for you.” Hawke’s voice was steady through the anger Fenris could see in her eyes. 

“Everything was fine until today!” The elf cried, it was such a lost sound that it made Fenris lose the anger he had nearly choked on moments before in an instant.

“It wasn’t, you just didn’t know any better.” He told her sadly. A light suddenly came into the young elf’s eyes as she took a step towards Fenris.

“Are you my Master now?” She asked him, hope coloring her voice.

“No!” Fenris said sharply, though he kept his tone soft. 

“But I can cook, I can clean,” She implored helplessly “what else will I do?” 

Stepping forward, Hawke caught her attention by raising a hand towards her.

“If you go to Kirkwall I can help you.” Hearing Hawke’s words the young woman brightened once more and a look of pure relief washed over her features, bouncing on the balls of her feet a little.

“Yes? Oh praise the Maker, thank you!” She said before nodding and turning to the exit to head towards Kirkwall.

Hawke wore an expression of content on her face as she faced their companions and Fenris felt the rage he had forgotten come back tenfold.

“I didn’t realize you were in the market for a slave!” Fenris hissed at Hawke, his face twisted in disgust.

“I gave her a job Fenris.” Hawke said blithely, staring at Fenris with a somewhat annoyed expression. 

“Ah, then, that’s good.” Fenris said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot “My apologies, let’s find Hadrianna and be done with this place.”

He walked away from the bloody mess they had created with his head held high, soon he heard Hawke, Varric and Isabela follow behind him. He would be glad to be rid of this place, this feeling of rage and confusion, with any luck killing Hadrianna would relieve some of those feelings.

 

“I,” Fenris ran a hand over his face, feeling himself start to shake “need to go.”

Without waiting for any response he practically bolted from the room, Hadrianna’s blood covered his hand and with the sense of being closed in pressing down on him Fenris was not likely to stop and find a scrap of cloth to clean it off. He could feel it congealing and making his hand tacky. It was still warm.

He stood at the entrance of the slaver’s den for a moment, not truly remembering how he got there as the rain pelted his face.

It was too much.

The hate in his heart threatened to choke Fenris as he exited the slaver’s den. Hawke did not deserve his anger, the only one who truly did was out of his reach; hiding in Tevinter strongholds like the roach he was. Though it was stifling; this hate, it tightened around his neck like a noose…or a collar.

Forcibly shaking away such thoughts Fenris picked his way down the coast Towards Kirkwall. Keeping his chin raised despite the icy rain that pelted his face. The coast was never really free of wind or rain, while the rough dunes of sand and debris provided little relief from the near constant force of the weather. Fighting down a shiver Fenris continued to push forward until a slight figure in the distance caught him off guard.

Crouching and moving towards the figure as quietly as he was able to manage Fenris kept his hand near the grip of his sword just in case. Though the closer he got to the figure the more he noticed that it was merely an unarmed elven woman, wandering the coast. Taking a closer look Fenris found that it was the same elf Hawke had offered a job to. Pushing aside his roiling emotions for the time being he stood fully and made his way towards the young woman, no longer bothering to conceal the soft sound of his footsteps.

Fenris knew that she heard his approach by the way that her shoulders suddenly locked up though before he could open his mouth in a greeting she whirled around and threw a rock at his head.

“Venhedis!” Fenris swore as he ducked, the rock skimming over his head while he raised his head just enough to glare at the woman in front of him. Hearing the rock thudding somewhere behind him Fenris schooled his features into something less threatening as he noticed the expression of pure terror the elven woman wore. Her eyes were wide and held more fear in them now than he had seen form her in the slaver’s den, while her breathing was quick and shallow. 

“It’s alright.” Fenris said softly, standing back up. “I’m not here to hurt you.” Doing his best to project a non-threatening air only to be impeded by the very gauntlets on his hands, he made sure that he stayed a few feet from the other elf as he tried to calm her down. “My name is Fenris, I was there when Hawke offered you the job.”

Recognition sparked in her eyes and Fenris watched as her shoulders visibly dropped. The relief in her eyes made Fenris glad of his decision to investigate the figure he had seen on the coast, she had been going in the wrong direction if she wanted to reach Kirkwall before nightfall. 

“T-thank you my lord. My name is Orana.” She said shakily giving Fenris a formal bow, he found himself noticing how she shook in the rain. The thin dress she had on provided little protection from the coastal torrent that laid on them at the moment, considering how little she must have been allowed out of doors Fenris had to shove down a dose of concern for the elf. She must be freezing.

“You need not bow to anyone anymore Orana.” Fenris said as he finally allowed himself to step towards her and grasped her gently by the shoulders. Ignoring the sudden, unnerving, sparking against his brands and the way that she tensed underneath his hands, Fenris coaxed Orana into a standing position. “You have no masters, no mistresses, you’re free now.” 

Orana looked on the edge of tears by the time Fenris released her shoulders and took a step back, though thankfully she seemed to quickly pull herself together. She took a deep breath and looked Fenris in the eye, he could see the effort it took her to maintain the direct eye contact and felt a measure of pride for the girl seat itself in his chest. 

Until he realized just how badly she was shaking.

“It is dangerous to be out here alone Orana.” Fenris said cautiously, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that had been created between them. Relived when she nodded he tried to press just a bit further.

“Also,” he continued with a wry twist of his lips, “if you intended to get to Kirkwall before dark you’re going in the wrong direction.”

The rush of color on Orana’s face nearly made Fenris choke on a laugh.

“O-h, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” She babbled, her hands waving in front of her as if she was trying to gather the words she had spoken and hide them. “P-please, could you point me in the correct direction?”

“I will do one better,” Fenris said with a small smile, “I shall take you there myself.” It was too cold and too dangerous for Fenris to feel right leaving her out here alone. He was spiraling in and out of control but he was not about to abandon Orana in the middle of the Storm Coast during what was becoming a typhoon. “Come, let’s get out of this rain before it drowns us.”

“Yes!” Orana chirped as Fenris turned back towards Kirkwall, her steps even lighter than his due to her lack of armor and weaponry. 

Fenris soon lost himself in thought, Hadrianna was dead and he was now one step closer to truly being free. 

It was bittersweet. 

The rage, confusion, fear and uncertainty crashed down on Fenris like a smith’s hammer on steal. He would have a moment of peace and clarity before it all came crashing back down harder than before. All that he had experienced as a slave still haunted him to this day. If he was to go back in time he would still be sure to kill the bitch but he wasn’t sure how to go forward.

The rain was picking up on the coast and starting to sting as it pelted the exposed parts of Fenris’ armor. A clacking noise drew him out of his thoughts and he turned around to see Orana falling behind. Her teeth were chattering and her lips were turning blue. Swearing under his breath Fenris pulled off his gauntlets and attached them to his belt, with his hands clear he stopped and pulled the elven woman closer to him. Using his hands to try and coax the blood to flow back into her arms.

Orana submitted to the contact with no resistance, too cold to be afraid of someone touching her. Fall in the Free Marches was a far cry from the warmth of Tevinter summers. While Fenris’ brands sparked underneath his skin at the contact Orana felt herself growing warm. The heat coming from Fenris paired with the flush rising from her at his proximity soon warmed Orana enough that the color started to return to her lips.

“Better?” Fenris asked softly, causing Orana to jump.

“Ye-es.” She stuttered, her voice breaking midway though. 

Nodding Fenris dropped his arms but didn’t step away, instead he kept close and did his best to shield Orana from the harsh wind. As an elf, even a tall one by elven standards, Fenris was rarely larger than his own kind though Orana seemed to be even smaller than the elves that lived in Kirkwall’s alienage. The signs of long term malnutrition would make it difficult for her to adjust to the cold temperatures of Kirkwall, it seemed that even walking over the cast was taking its toll on her if the heaviness of her breathing was anything to go by. Slowing himself down considerably, he allowed Orana to set their pace, hoping that they reached Kirkwall before dark.

While avoiding Hawke and company along the way.

 

A walk that had taken Fenris a little over an hour with Hawke ended up taking nearly twice as long as he and Orana finally reached the outer gates to Kirkwall’s Lowtown. As they passed through the gates, completely soaked through and freezing, they were both more than ready for any type of shelter. The blue had returned to Orana’s lips and Fenris was starting to feel the effects of the cold as well. 

The streets of Lowtown were dimly lit, if they were lit at all, and Fenris forced himself to pay close attention to their surroundings for both their sakes as they made their way through the closed shop tables of the market. The rain did little to wash away the stench of garbage and piss that littered the market, though the streets had an odd viscous quality to them. 

Thankfully the streets were quiet this evening. They had recently taken out one of the top gangs of Lowtown so Fenris was confident the streets would remain clear for at least a week before a new gang took its place. Looking back at Orana, Fenris was unsure on whether or not he would even be able to keep the young woman alive in a large scale gang fight. Though as they neared the staircase into Hightown Fenris had so far seen nothing out of sorts and started to relax.

As if fate had told him he had spoken too soon Fenris felt eyes on his back and whirled around, brands flashing a bright, ethereal blue and he raised a hand to his sword as he urged Orana to get behind him. He felt it as the air seemed to grow still under the tension before whoever was in the shadows decided that fighting an elf that glowed and carried a sword nearly as big as the elf himself wasn’t worth it. Though he kept his eyes on the shadows that surrounded the staircase as Orana got a head start up the steps, turning only when he no longer had the sensation of being watched.

The staircase up to Hightown itself could only be called excessive. Despite their slow, measured pace it wasn’t long before Orana started flagging, they were about halfway up the steps when Fernis stopped for a moment; allowing Orana a chance to get her breath back and bend to attempt to rub some warmth back into her toes. Blocking her from the majority of the rain while she caught her breath Fenris grit his teeth against the harsh biting cold of the water that pelted his back. As soon as she straightened back up she gave Fenris a small nod and they continued up the stairs to the Hightown market.

Hawke’s estate soon came into view and the sight alone seemed to give both Fenris and Orana a small burst of renewed energy. As Fenris opened the door to the manor and ushered Orana inside, the warmth of the foyer swept over his chilled skin causing him to shiver as the feeling settled. Running a hand though his hair to dislodge as much of the water as he was able Fenris guided Orana further into the house.

The thundering of heavy paws over carpet and a sharp bark caused Orana to fall back with a cry as Hawke’s mabari, Pookie, rushed forward. Thankfully, Fenris was able to shoot an arm out and catch the other elf before she fell, the hound was still at her feet trying to sniff her face. Orana was barely a strain to hold up, though her shaking was a cause for concern. Fenris was unsure if it was the cold the seeped through her dress or the giant beast in front of them that exacerbated the shakes. 

“Down!” Fenris barked as he steadied Orana back on her feet, keeping an arm close to her back just in case she fell once more. Pookie settled back on her haunches and regarded the two in front of her with an air of amusement, keeping her eyes on Orana as she panted.

Fenris dropped his arm from Orana’s back and strode forward past the dog and into the main hall ignoring the hound’s second, though much softer, bark and Orana’s subsequent squeak as she avoided the dog and followed after Fenris. Turning to the library Fenris quietly opened the door and spotted Hawke’s steward; Bodahn, he was dusting the shelves of the massive library while his son seemed content to trail after him with a few tools in his hands murmuring about enchantments. 

If the dwarf was surprised to see Fenris striding into the library he didn’t show it.

“Good evening Serah Fenris, I’m afraid Messere Hawke is out for the evening. I can take a message if you need to speak to her.” The steward said politely, Fenris actually quite liked Bodahn, he was a clever dwarf with a keen mind and kind disposition. 

“I’m not here for Hawke,” Fenris said as he gestured to Orana to come forward, “This is Orana, she’ll be working for Hawke from now on.” 

Before Fenris could blink, Bodahn had shot forward in a flurry of fatherly concern and started to fret and babble of Orana’s disheveled state. For her part, Orana seemed overwhelmed by the sudden attention the dwarf was paying her. 

“For goodness sake you’re as cold as death!” Bodahn fussed as he ushered Orana out into the main hall towards the fireplace “sit right here next to the fire while I fetch you a warm towel miss, don’t move!” As quickly as he came Bodahn left the hall in a rush to fetch warm towels and a light snack, leaving Orana shell-shocked by the fire.

Satisfied that Orana would be in good hands Fenris walked out of the library and made his way towards the exit. Though no sooner had he reached the middle of the hall he was being given a mug of sweet smelling tea and a warm towel was being thrown over his shoulders. Before he could formulate an appropriate protest, Bodahn had situated him near the fire next to Orana, who was also sporting a blanket and tea.

There were worse places to be he supposed.

Pookie had settled next to the elven woman, laying her massive head on Orana’s lap as she gently hand a hand over the hound’s back. As Fenris settled he noticed Orana staring at him with a look of concern, raising an eyebrow he silently asked what was wrong.

“Is the magister really dead?” She asked quietly, as if afraid Hadrianna would walk through the front door and kill them all with blood magic. 

“Very.” He growled. “She’s dead and you are free.” 

Rather than relief, Orana’s face drew into an expression of worry and fear. Fenris could not help the pang of empathy that shot through him at the look on her face. He remembered being in her situation, he could see why she was so afraid. It brought the bitterness and disquiet he had been feeling since the slaver’s den back to the forefront of his mind. 

“I’ve never been anything but a slave,” She said quietly, drawing Fenris’ attention back into the room “just like Poppa and Grand Poppa before me…” She trailed off uncertainly, staring into the fire with a helpless expression.

“I know that it will be hard to accept at first but there is nothing to bind you anymore. You can go where you want, do what you want and say what you want. You need not bow to anyone.” Though he tried to keep his tone gentle, Fenris could tell that his dark mood was coloring his voice into something far more threatening. 

“What about Mistress Hawke?” Orana asked, she looked directly at Fenris as she asked her question this time, allowing Fenris to see the full range of her expressions as they shifted from curious to fearful to shy and back to curious before he answered her. 

“Hawke is a good woman, even if she is a mage she is the sort of person that more should aspire to be. Mages or otherwise.” He said seriously, watching as Orana nodded and accepted the information without question. 

“She won’t hurt me then?” She whispered, drawing her knees in close and resting her chin on them.

“If she does I’ll help you, I don’t think Hawke would but if you ever come to harm in this house come and find me.” Fenris growled, keeping his eyes locked with Orana’s as she nodded and took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for bringing me here Fenris, you’ve been too kind to me.” Orana said with a warm smile, causing Fenris to bite back a bitter laugh.

“With hope you will meet people far kinder than I Orana.” He said as he rose from his spot near the fire, folding his towel and placing it neatly next to his untouched cup of tea. “I’ll leave you here for now, if you need help or you have troubles with Hawke for any reason let me know.” 

“Fenris.” As he turned to leave Orana’s voice caused him to turn back to the fire. She had gotten to her feet and was now nervously wringing her hands in front of her. “Will I see you again? Barring any misfortunes, that is?” 

Warmth coursed through Fenris at the level of hope in her words, cutting though the feeling of disquiet that had haunted him.

“Kirkwall is only so big,” He gave her a small smile as he spoke “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“I-I’d like that.” Orana stuttered excitedly as Fenris turned and exited into the foyer. He heard the sound of Orana bustling behind him; gathering their tea cups and damp towels no doubt, while in front of him he saw the front door of the estate open to a soaked Hawke tumbling through.

He still had an apology to make and now was a good a time as ever. Still warm from Orana’s hopeful words Fenris approached the first ally he had made since he had fled Seheron, praying that he did damage things so terribly that he was beyond forgiveness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for reading! I hope you all enjoy the alt pair week!


End file.
